


Drowning Slowly

by Xivi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter - Freeform, Hogwarts Seventh Year, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tom Riddle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2020-07-09 12:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xivi/pseuds/Xivi
Summary: Priori Incantatem, a curse and a blessing. When the two wands that are fated to be equals meet, it sets everything into motion.or:Where Harry is stuck in 1945 running away from the mini dark lord.





	1. The prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic and work with AO3 - so be patient with me! (This also means no beta)
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first work and fanfic with AO3 - Enjoy!!!

_ You have witnessed the end _

_ Now witness the beginning _

Gasping,  shudders wracked his fragile form . His head knocking against the wall of the alcove he had  hidden in. Hands  ** wrapping ** around his throat. 

_ A brilliant bright green whizzes past his ear. _

He couldn’t  ** breathe ** .

_ A strangled scream from a bushy haired companion. _

He couldn’t  ** breathe ** . 

_ Malfoy’s wand in his grasp. _

Ripping off his tie that hung like a  ** noose ** around his neck.

_ Forehead seeping blood dangerously. _

He couldn’t  ** breathe ** .

_ There was a metallic taste in the air, fused with magic. _

Windpipe feeling dangerously tight and locked in place as though lodged by his  ** sins ** .

_ His senses hyperaware. _

Chest aching and starting to  ** cave ** with every breath.

_ Ruby red eyes glared from behind a mask. _

His Stomach  ** knotted ** to the brim.

_ An explosion erupted from behind knocking him forwards. _

phantom aches  ** bursting ** under the surface reflecting his inner turmoil. 

_ Laughter that scratched and clawed its way out. _

Forehead  ** clammy ** with moisture.

_ Knuckles grazing on the sharp cobbled stones in anger and fury. _

Body  ** cursing ** with  hatred.

_ Elder wand poised at the ready, a tilt of a head _ _ ,  _ _ those eyes filled with mirth. _

** Sickly ** pale skin.

_ There was no laughter, no screaming, there was just silence. _

Heart bursting from his chest . Bursting so much that he could  feel blood  ** rushing ** past his ears.

_ No one dared to move. _

He couldn’t stop his hands from quivering, his body from shaking. Tremors that ran  ** deep ** . It hurt all over his body. 

_ Colours. _

Tasting bile at the back of his throat. 

_ A whisper of the killing curse _

He couldn’t  ** stop ** remembering, he couldn’t  ** stop ** thinking. 

_ A whisper of death. _


	2. The ending of the beginning

_ Hadrian Evans, a mudblood _

The quill snapped in half, knuckles whitened as his nails dug into his fleshy palm. Splotches of ink splattering against the fresh parchment. Muddy brown hair falling across the jagged mark. Angry killing curse eyes seeking out the bastard

_ Hadrian Evans, a force to be reckoned with. _

Not deadly in the way a sleek and elegant snake would be. Far too predictable for that. No, pretty Hadrian would claw his way, slashing at your throat before you could even utter the simple incantation. He was violent, erratic and beautiful. Yet dirty, tainted and impure, worse than muddy water itself. 

_ Hadrian Evans, Slytherin _

Bored jade coloured eyes taking in the grand hall as though watching a noir film for the nth time. No spring, joy or caution was betrayed in his steps as the slightly less battered hat beckoned him closer. Whispers scattering about where the newly orphaned ‘older’ wizard was to be placed. A trivial affair, he was a mudblood, his last name said as much. A hat stall. A wait. Shock. Steps of anger stormed towards the far end table.

_ Hadrian Evans, a shattered mirror _

Cold pale hands trailed against the boys clammy neck, too feverish to be left here in the hidden alcove. Slender fingers picking up the discarded tie as they worked their way around the tightened knot and folded it neatly into his own pocket. Electric. Ruby brown hues meeting sparking green ones. One hot broad hand clamped down on one cold dainty wrist. He didn’t have it in him to feel smug as he freed his wrist, giving a warning about being out past curfew. Secrets haunted the corridors.

_ Hadrian Evans, powerful _

Eyes tended to seek Evans wherever he went. The rumour wheel constantly turning over and over. He can cast a patronus. His fear is fear itself. Merrythought is going to give him her post. Riddle and Evans constantly outbalance each other. What if he is a mole. He’s a sly Slytherin. What if he’s part of Grindelwald. A spy. Death looms over him. Stay away. He’s dangerous. Don’t go near you’ll die just like Myrtle.

_ Hadrian Evans, a trap _

“Riddle.” It’s a soft tone reserved for him and him only, he realises the other is bored. Play cat and mouse, play the tango, play the game. Chess pieces knocked down around them, they sat atop like kings and queens. Everyone was discarded in the end. All that remained was the two of them. “P-”

_ Hadrian Evans, murderer _

“Time is fickle”

It’s raining and it’s dark.

“There are fixed points”

They stand under the arch, fit for just two.

“So all you have to do is jump”

Manners and niceties thrown out the window

“Go on, be a good girl”

She won’t move, she’s shaking.

“...”

She wanted someone to like her so much

“Surprised?”

Maybe she asked for too much

“The thing about time is-”

And. She’s falling.

“ -I know what’s coming, its boring, bleak and being rewritten.”

Crazed green eyes turn to find the one watching, hiding in the shadows.

“Tom”

A violent smirk sculpts his features.

_ Harry Potter _

_ Death watches over you _

_ Your constant companion _

_ Riddle entertains you _

_ Your eternity _

_ A tale of arch enemies falling from their pedestals becoming one. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I haven't decided if this is going to be the ending for this story or just to leave it as it is for now. Leave a comment below with your thoughts xox XIVI


	3. The In-between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So here is an additional bonus chapter for you all! 
> 
> It explains the events before Harry meets Tom for a second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work doesn't have a beta yet, so please don't kill me for any mistakes. 
> 
> Also, this is the longest chapter by far, so go me!

At the crossroads, a child sits, with raven hair that rivalled the abyss and clear pale skin that could be compared to the first sprinkling of snow at the crack of dawn. Not a freckle or blemish to be seen until the hair is parted slightly. A curse scar that is the only remnant of the child's past. All that is left of their identity.

Many souls have wandered through such a devoid place and have often questioned its purpose. But most, if not all have come across the child, a child who sits with no purpose of going forwards or backwards. It is unknown how long the child has been sitting for. Whether they are simply waiting for the right soul to cross with them or simply have no need to move on.

Until one moment fractured into a thousand pieces-

_ My child, it is finally time to open your spectacular eyes. _

-and the child was no longer a child.

In place of the child was a young man, barely twenty. Most captivating by his dark shimmering green eyes that evoked fear if one looked to close. He was considered to be of average height, albeit on the slightly short side. With Broad narrow shoulders showing off his limber form as he rose to face the one who called out to him.

_ You collected all three hallows, _

_ The death stick also known as the Elder wand, _

_ The resurrection stone also known as the Gaunt ring, _

_ The invisibility cloak also known to hide from the eyes of Death. _

The young man knew of the presence that lingered near his right shoulder and barely lifted his head slightly to greet them. Choosing to take in his surroundings. Finding. There was in fact. Nothing to it. Just the white outline of a wooden bench upon where he was previously resting. “So, the myths are true.”

_ You have already been here once _

The entity was voiceless and at the same time, it spoke. There wasn’t a gender or pitch that could be placed upon such a sound. It didn’t warble, grate or annoy the young male. It was just as simple as he could describe it. Toneless.

“Death?”

_ I go by many names, my child, you however, are my master or rather the master of the hallows. Uptil now fate has chosen your path crafted through decisions you have made, or perhaps the ones you were guided on. _

Now the war beaten male turns to face the entity only to find a hooded figure shrouded in mist. Not quite what has was expecting. “Where’s the scythe?”, a muggle concept, a muggle question that he decided to humour the entity of. Perhaps the only sliver of humanity that remained of the young male had all been shoved in that one question.

The entity let out the strangest of sounds almost scratchy and soul churning to his ears.

It is only later the young male would come to place it as laughing.

_ You have rested a long time master. _

_ The world is no longer your world- _

“I was slain when I was destined to be revered.” Bitter as the male spat out his words, disgust and betrayal curling throughout his entire soul. Killing curse green hues sparking to life as anger swept through his system. Thawing his numb core.

Flashes as the battle of Hogwarts came to a standstill.

The dark lord had been defeated.

All eyes drew onto the warrior that was left to be crowned the victor.

No side dared to move, not yet.

All listening to the saviours haggard breathing, as he stumbled down onto the ground where the dark lord had been previously. Ignoring the sharp pain indicated by the inhale of breath as the stone floor collided against his weak knees. 

“NO DON’T-” One faithful companion screamed.

Metal pierced right through the chest of the saviour.

“We said we wouldn’t . . .” The second now not so faithful companion echoed dully.

Blood gurgled up through his throat, spluttering out of his mouth as he grasped at the THING inside him, cutting at his fingers as he numbly twisted to face a ginger-haired, pale complexion and bitter faced youth that wasn’t ready for a war.

“No bastard as powerful as Riddle deserves to live.” There was a murderous crazed glint in her eyes. One he would later come to know himself.

The blade kissed his neck.

_ -As I was saying, young master, time is no longer an issue. _

_ For death prevails all. _

“What are you trying to get at?” He spat out, the dark circles around his electric green eyes more noticeable, reflecting his current state. The young man was simply tired.

_ Do you wish to live again? _

_ To give your equal a second chance? _

“My equal?” Letting the question hang around in the air for a moment, they both knew what he truly meant. Lord Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, a cunning and intelligent man that let it waste on splitting his very own soul.

_ You will find your true strength and only then will be ready to become my master. _

_ Walk the past and seek me out should you need it. _

_ It will not be easy. _

The young male felt his vision darken as the entity grew closer to him.

_ And, _

The steady and weary tiredness sunk into his very bones.

_ Don't forget, _

For once Harry James Potter felt safe about the voice that engulfed his very being.

_ There are fixed points in time, that can not change. _

A whisper of death as the male drifted away to the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to Kudos and tell me how you found the chapter! And any ideas on what you would like other bonus chapters to be!


	4. BONUS #1 FATE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dark alternative ending, not part of the main story but a line of many futures that could have been grasped.

“Tom”

For a brief moment the howling wind ripped through the pair, robes whipping up as unsaid words were left to settle. Such words that didn’t need to be mentioned as a viscous smirk carved its way onto the tan males immortal face. 

One heartbeat later had Riddle's lips captivating Evans. Hungry. Greedy. Hot. Cold. Moans. Hands fisting at each other's robes as tongues like swords clashing and fighting for dominance. Feverous as backs slammed multiple times against a wall. Balancing each other perfectly as the rain continued to thunder down around them. Hammering into their skulls as heavy breaths were lost to the deafening monstrous wind, just as uncontrollable as them. Just as wild as them. As dangerous as them.   
  
“Beautiful Hadrian”   
  
“Mine” A soft growl, a bite on the bottom lip.   
  
Memories swirling and dissolving, as black fog engulfed the devils.

Older now as killing curse eyes rested on the pensive in deep thought, oh how much everything had changed since then. Not that he would change it as his frown started twisting into a dark and unsettling grin. No longer did he have a ‘saving-people-thing’ - long gone ever since the suicide of Myrtle, who suprisingly didn’t come back as a ghost and try to haunt the living shit out of everyone. Meaning that Evans was allowed to continue his NEWTs and graduate with a latter of EE’s and O’s.

So while he sat around in the Peverell Manner it allowed for Hardian to take a break from the politics of the wizarding world, that caused him headaches due to being more of a ‘do-er’, on his feet and slashing down his enemies rather than dull paperwork which threatened to lull him to sleep. Laws and Trails and dominate, in particular Tom’s manic obsession with world domination hadn’t seemed to ease over the years.

It also granted the master of death to summon the entity that granted him such a wish to go backwards and become his true self. “Death…” 

_ No longer are you the boy in the limbo _

Nails digging into the leather seat, to be reminded of such a time of naivety disgusted his entire being. 

_ It has been a while _

There was no entity in front of him rather, the scratching of nails, a mismatch of souls grated at his mental barriers. Hadrian only gave a small nod knowing full well the sly entity could see him. “Tell me, how much have I changed” Harsh as he spat his words out, not wanting to play games and sit with his legs crossed, head with the fae. Too many occasions it happened. Power, especially Death’s power was addictive as he came to learn.   
  
_ And if it was to always happen? _

“Lies” Sharp tongued as he forced it past his clenched jaw, tight with burning anger. Always the one with a short fuse.

_. . . _

Hadrian let a growl rip from his throat, raw and furious as his magic lashed out. IT COULD NOT BE TRUE. Mirrors shattered, books flew their precious pages ripping free, the fire raging as the orange flames started to lick the walls, itching closer to the ceiling. Pensive knocking over with sheer force as Evans smashed his hand across.

_ Untapped potential, even now. Use it and your fate will change. _

“Your late” 

“Sorry”

“It’s been days Hadrian” The book snapped shut, a flick of a wand and it was already travelling back to the right place. “I do not appreciate losing what is  _ Mine _ ” Hand clenching around the tan chin, “Do. You. Understand?” Tilting his head as he stared into such beautiful and mesmerising eyes.

“Sure”

Teeth nipped the neck of Evans, eliciting a soft moan and tremble from the other. Sucking harshly as Riddle knew the broken blood capillaries would shine through. He marked what was his. A possessive and obsessive being that made up such a broken man.

“Bye Riddle” Broken up from the heavy breathing.

_ Fatefate _

_ Fate _

_ Fate _

_ Aftefafete _

It burned into his mind as he betrayed his lover just as he was. The squelching of flesh as he drove the blade deep into the gut of Riddle, a twist. FatE FATE. Had it really been days? Laughter bubbled from his chest as he looked into the ruddy deep brown eyes. Why was there no fear in them. And when did he become Riddle to him and not the beautiful Tom.

Fate

His soul burned his head burned his eyes burned as water spilled splashing onto the floor.

Fate

“Not the last of me Potter” Broken, wet and raspy. As he gripped at the others robes. “You- not- only one- immorta” The life faded from his eyes bit by bit. A grin.

No longer was Harry James Potter entertained by the devil.

**Bringing the blade to his own throat.**

  
**Death,** _ conquer me. _


End file.
